He would bow down before no one, except one person: his wife. He would kneel before her, not out of weakness, but out of respect and love. She was the only one who could command his loyalty, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. For her, he would do anything, even if it meant going against his own nature.

She was his whole universe—the sun he gravitated around. She was the blood in his veins, the ever-beating heart of his heart. She was the colour through which he saw the world. Not only that, but she was the melody of his life. She was his everything.

And he would do anything for her—commit the most heinous crimes a man could inflict on humanity, burn down cities. She was his everything. As a loyal hound would show his master, he would show her his devotion. He would go to every length just to see her approve.

But it wasn’t always like that. No. Daemon Targaryen was, and still is, a rough crime lord. But in private, he was as soft as a kitten—or so his wife teased him. And he liked it. She was the only one who received such softness from him.

The light of his life. The love of his life. His Persephone to his Hades. The mother of his precious children.

She was his everything. He was darkness, and she was his light.

It was a typical Friday night for Daemon. Business meetings here, a new deal there, looking at the goods at the docks, shooting a rival in the head. A normal Friday.

But throughout the day, Daemon felt off. Nothing pleased him. Not even the begging of a business partner he executed this morning satisfied him all that much.

He grew numb. Too numb for his own liking.

He had a great responsibility. A whole empire lay in the palm of his hand. An empire he had built from the ruins of his brother’s neglect.

Viserys had been too weak, too kind-hearted to ever rule the crime business as he did. Ever since he was a child, Daemon had known the world he was born into was dangerous and bloody, full of greed and power-hungry people. You had to be ruthless, cunning, and greedy to survive. Viserys had never been a strong leader. He was too soft, too pliable. A pushover.

But Daemon gave credit where credit was due. Viserys knew how to launder money well—so well that Daemon never needed to borrow money from allies. The money Viserys left was enough to fix every crack in the pristine Targaryen crime empire.

He sat in his penthouse, one hand resting on the armrest of an armchair in his living room while the other lazily petted the head of his most loyal companion, Caraxes. His Doberman, as proud a hound as Daemon was.

The dog had his eyes closed, enjoying his owner's caress, sitting upright and pushing his head further into his hand. Daemon chuckled under his breath at his dog’s antics.

He stared out of the floor-to-ceiling window, sighing softly. His eyes darted around the grey skyline of King’s Landing. The only thing missing now would be the rotting smell of the city to make me more miserable, Daemon thought.

His numbness wasn’t even boredom. He didn’t know where it came from. If he was bored, he would go to his private shooting range, torture someone, go to the gym, or visit his speakeasy, The Red Dragon. Maybe call for a woman to warm his bed.

But nothing sparked any kind of joy. Still, Daemon rose from his seat. Caraxes looked up at him, watching his master take his suit jacket and leave the flat. A low whine escaped the Doberman as he was left behind, feeling his owner's emptiness too.

She was a nobody. Her entire life consisted of surviving.

She was born into poverty, never knowing the luxury of choosing between a warm meal, new clothes, or a book for school. Her mother had worked three jobs to ensure she had the bare minimum to live on. She

All her life, she dreamed of nothing more than living a normal and simple life—having a good-paying job, a nice flat, or even a small house. But for her dreams, she needed a higher education. The cost of education was a high price to pay. She had only earned a high school degree. College was never in the picture. The costs were so horrendously high, she would have had to work five jobs to get through the first semester and still be in debt for the rest of her life.

Life as a waitress was not her dream, much less working in a very short waitress uniform. But the pay was decent, and she could afford to buy food and pay rent in the same month.

She was running late again. With her apron clutched tightly in her hand, she tried to maneuver through the crowds of office workers on their way to various meetings or coffees.

The bell above the diner’s door rang, signaling her entry.  “You’re late again!” growled her boss from the kitchen window. She ran past him with an apologetic smile, stamping in for the day before rushing into the locker room.

She put her things in the small cabinet with her name on it. Then she slipped into her waitress uniform—a short black skirt reaching to her mid-thighs, a white blouse, and a white apron. She tied her hair back as best she could. The diner always ran hot regardless of the season.

She walked outside, picking up her notepad, and sighed as her eyes roamed the people sitting around. Greasy-looking men came in and out, trying to touch her, demanding impossible things, and leaving lousy tips. All she could do was smile and be nice, even when she wanted to slap and curse at them. But she couldn’t, or she would be fired. The customer is king, her boss's words rang in her mind.

With her pad in hand and a tray under her arm, she moved through the sitting area to serve her table. She sighed at herself, weaving through rows of tables, trying not to bump into corners and hurt herself—a task she often failed at.

Day in, day out, she had to do this work to keep her flat and pay for groceries. Better than sleeping on the streets, she thought with a subtle shudder as she moved to a table in her area. She had been there once.

A lot of construction workers sat in the diner, leering at her as if she were just a piece of meat. She tried to pull her skirt further down, but the garment was already at its limits. Bad enough it rode up while she walked around.

As she wrote down the order of a customer, the bell above the door rang. Loud, giggling and high pitched laughter filled the diner. Five women stumbled in and sat down at a table.

They worked in the luxury nightclub across the street. The five women had become regulars over time, either coming in for breakfast or dinner depending on her shift.

They were nice to her, giving generous tips, asking how she was, keeping her away from the leering men, and making her day a bit more bearable.

She walked up to them, smiling as she spotted new and familiar faces. But before she could take their orders, a well-dressed man entered the restaurant in a flurish. He radiated power, wealth, and danger.

His white hair was gelled back. Black leather boots clicked with every step he took. His red button-up shirt was tucked into finely tailored black slacks. A silver watch gleamed on his wrist. A ring on his little finger bore some kind of dragon crest.

His eyes scanned the room before stopping on her. He froze, taking her in. His eyes took her slowly in. But his gaze didn’t linger like she was used to from the other patrons.

“Coffee, black. No sugar. To go.” His voice was low and smooth. He walked to the women’s table.  “Ladies, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to take your lunch to go. There’s been a business issue.” His voice was strained–hurried even. Like he was under a lot of pressure.

The group of women groaned but nodded. One by one, they ordered their food to go.

She watched them file out one by one after she brought them their food. The last person to leave was the mysterious man.  “You made the coffee?” he asked, turning around with his hand on the door handle. He was holding up the paper cup filled with the bitter language.

She could only nod.  “It’s good. Strong, even. Maybe I’ll visit this joint again.” He flashed her a crooked smirk before leaving.

And so, she met the most fearsome man in the city.

As he said, he began to visit regularly. Only ever ordering a black coffee and the latest newspapers. Leaving her alone until he needed a refill.

She liked him. When he was around, all the other men behaved differently.

“Here’s your coffee. Black, no sugar. And today’s news.” She smiled as she set both in front of him on the table.

He looked up from his phone. “You are an angel,” he hummed. Her cheeks heated up. “Do you want anything else? We have freshly baked pies.” She mumbled, fiddling with her pen.

He shook his head.  “Nah, just what you brought me. Thanks, Angel.”

Her cheeks were now burning from his compliment. Quickly, she scurried away, refilling drinks and taking orders. Trying to distract herself from the handsome stranger.

He liked sitting in the diner across from his club. It was quiet, and the coffee was good. But he realised quickly the coffee was only good when she made it. When someone else brewed it, it tasted burned.

But everything was sweeter when she was there—the beautiful waitress with that thousand-megawatt smile.

Always so kind. Her presence soothed him. His emptiness disappeared when she was around.

He watched her from his usual table, the first one right next to the entrance, by the large window.

Her smile was tense, fake. He had noticed long ago that her politeness was an act. No wonder, he thought. The guys she had to serve were even worse than the patrons in his own club.

So he figured out her shifts and sat in the diner, staring down the creeps.

He couldn’t kill them, sadly. He was too afraid it would frighten her and push her away. So he plotted, and after they left, his men would corner anyone who mistreated her—threatening, beating, sometimes worse things. But only if the guy was a serious creep. But never killing.

He wanted to protect her, in his own twisted way. Maybe he was falling for her. Daemon didn’t want to admit it. He put it off as an obsession with something he couldn’t have.

She was walking home from a late shift at the diner when a car slowed down next to her.

“Can I take you home?” It was the guy who always sat at the corner table in the diner.

She stopped walking. He stopped driving too. She stared at him through the open passenger window. Her heart was beating fast. He stared back at her with one of those roguish smirks.

She felt like a deer caught in headlights. Her head screamed no, but her stomach told her she could trust him.

And so, she stepped into the car of the most dangerous man in all Westeros.

The car was silent for a while, but Daemon wanted to get to know his little waitress better. “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Daemon.” He grinned softly, his eyes darting toward her.

His lips stretched into a large smirk as she introduced herself. “Beautiful,” he mumbled under his breath.

She had given him her address. One look on his GPS and his melancholy slowly began to grow back. His heart dropped as they drove closer to her flat complex.

“Will you make your lemon pie again at your next shift?” He heard her giggle softly.

“Only if you order it,” she quipped, her eyes darting over to him.  He grinned.

“I’m not much of a sweet tooth. I like the taste of bitter and sharp things. But your pie is a perfect blend of sour and sweet. Much like a whiskey sour.”

She laughed heartily.  “Maybe I’ll bake a small pie only for you. I’m not allowed to bake big pies if they aren’t being sold.”

Daemon huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then work as my personal pastry chef. I won’t restrict you,” he mumbled.

The car was suddenly silent. His heart was pounding. What the hell did you just offer?! His inner voice was screaming and pulling their hair. But he had to keep his cool.

As he stopped in front of her flat, he saw her shocked face.

“What?” he mumbled, his brows arched. Sounding nonchalant even though he was far gone from it.

“Did you just offer me a job?” She turned fully to him.

He shrugged. “Can you cook as well as you bake? I am in need of a new chef anyway. Do you want the job?”

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I wasn’t sure what Edward had done, but the boys backed up and Edward made his way back into the car. I hurried and put my seatbelt on before he revved the engine and pulled forward. I couldn’t help but gasp as the men fell over as they backed away. Then he backed up swiftly, making the sharpest turn around that swished my insides. Even then, I still felt the safest I’ve ever been.

He raced down past the building and pulled onto the street, not even stopping at the sign or even waiting for someone to let him in. Honks blared past him, but not one flinch. As he raced down the street, I took the time to study him. His jaw was clenched, his hands gripped the wheel, his expression was full of fury; it looked as if he wasn’t even breathing at all.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice squeaked. I winced hearing my voice coming out so frail. 

“No.” He was fuming.

I was surprised when he’d made a complete stop at the side of the road. I didn’t realize I’d been looking at him the whole time when he finally stopped to look towards me, not even reaching my eye.

“Y/N?” he asked as softly as he could, although I could still hear the strains of anger.

“Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” His eyes met mine for a split second.

“I–I think so…” I don’t think I was. I was too shocked by it all.

“Do you think you can distract me?” he just about pleaded.

From just looking at him, I didn’t need to question his need for a diversion. But, what was there to say? The days without him had left me in a heap of depression and utter sense of boredom at school. I racked my brain of anything that seemed amusing, scratching out my search for vampires and the constant dreams I had of him that left me a sweating mess on my sheets.

“Tyler Crowley–he–um kept telling everyone he was taking me to prom? I think? I don’t really remember, I kinda tuned it out…” I admitted. I should’ve been more angry about it, but the absence of Edward had hit me a lot harder.

“I heard about that.” He seemed to be controlling his breaths.

“Really? Was I the last one to hear about this?” I tried to lighten the mood, it seemed to work when I was rewarded a slight chuckle. “If he thinks taking me to prom is making up for almost killing me, then I’ll just run him over with my car and make it even.”

I saw his mouth twitch a bit with my remark, almost forcing itself not to crack a smile. I decided to speak up again. “What’s wrong?”

“My temper. Sometimes it gets out of control.” He was whispering, ashamed of what he couldn’t control. “It’s taking everything in me not to turn around and hunt those animals. The vile, repulsive things they were thinking…” 

I know. I didn’t dare speak that aloud. I felt like I was losing my mind. Could he too hear their thoughts or were they as clear as day?

“It wouldn’t help to turn around and do it… or even run them over… At least that’s what I’m trying to  convince myself.”

A part of me wished that he would… hunt them down. The part of me that was completely exposed. The one that was forced to hear their thoughts. Unless I’d imagined it… but it wouldn’t have been too far off from reality.

“Jessica and Angela,” I broke the brief silence, realizing that it had been at least 20 minutes since I’d last contacted them. “I was supposed to meet them, they’re probably worried...”

Without another word, he started the engine. Yet again, racing through the streets in a blur. He parallel parked in a spot with ease, right in front of La Bella Italia. My eyebrows furrowed. From the time I’d told him about meeting the girls to our arrival at the restaurant, I never mentioned the location once.

In my swift time of thought, he’d already been opening my door.

 “What’re you doing?” I asked him.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” he said as if it was so plainly obvious. 

I fumbled with my seatbelt as my mind raced about as fast as Edward’s driving. Finally, I stepped out.

Just as we were entering, Jessica and Angela walked out, the both of them sighing with relief. Right as they were about to speak, they noticed the brooding, tall man beside me and their worried looks had faded, instead replaced with a red tint in their cheeks.

“Sorry I kept Y/N from dinner. We ran into each other and got talking.” Edward was the one to speak first. I was grateful. I couldn’t even bear to tell them what happened, at least not yet, I didn’t want to worry them. 

“We understand, yeah!” Jessica was completely flustered along with Angela.

“Would it be all right if I joined you?” he asked. He had a way with people, one that left them absolutely breathless. The girls were left in stutters.

“Um! Y-yeah sure!” Jessica breathed. Edward smirked.

“Um, actually, Y/N, we already ate while we were waiting — sorry," Angela confessed. 

“That’s okay! I’m not really that hungry anyways.” I shrugged. With all the nerves with Edward here, I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to stomach anything.

“I really think you should eat something,” Edward said in a low voice, leaning down to speak into my ear. I looked up at him, trying to cover up the fact that I was in complete awe. I simply nodded back at him as if I was in a trance.

“Sure, yeah.” I tried to say as composed as possible. 

He looked back to the two girls, then spoke, “Do you mind if I drive Y/N home tonight? That way the two of you aren’t left waiting.”

Jessica and Angela looked to me for an answer. I gave them a nod with a smile. This was exactly what I needed. A night to finally ask all of my unanswered questions from my brooding savior.

“Yeah! Not a problem! See you tomorrow, Y/N/N,” Jessica chirped.

“Bye Y/N,” Angela leaned in for a hug. “And Edward, thanks for staying and taking her home.” She smiled at him. He responded back with a tight, but genuine smile.

Once they left, Edward guided me towards the entrance,holding the door open for me. My heart skipped a beat. I walked through the door, immediately being greeted by a host. Actually, only Edward was greeted by the host. Just from the look in her eyes, I knew she was instantly enamored by his presence, a feeling that was all too familiar with practically anyone that laid their eyes on him. 

As she spoke, she never broke eye contact with him, not once looking towards me. I hated that it bothered me. The way she smiled at him, giggling at him once he spoke — it made me feel small.

“A table for two?” Her eye contact was still left unbroken, but when I looked towards Edward, his eyes were only on me. My breath trembled.

When she led us to a larger table, one that was meant for four, Edward spoke up, “Perhaps something more private?” He asked the host with a quick glance towards her before slyly pulling out a tip for her. Then his eyes were back on me. 

“Sure,” she said alluringly, still trying to catch Edward’s undivided attention. She led us over to the quieter area of the restaurant, with a ring of small booths lined up. “How’s this?” 

“Perfect.” He flashed a smile at her, one that had absolutely left her awed.

”Um-” she stuttered, “your server will be right out.” She walked away, still making glances back towards Edward.

“Wow.” That was all that I could possibly utter after that interaction.

“What?”

“You really shouldn’t do that to people.” I finally found my voice. “It’s hardly fair.”

“Do what?”

”Dazzle them like that.” I couldn’t possibly think of a word more fitting. “She’s probably hyperventilating in the kitchen right now.”

His eyebrows furrowed, which surprised me. Did he really not notice this effect he has on people?

“I dazzle people?” His head tilted to one side, his eyes full of curiosity.

“Oh, come on.” I giggled. “Do you really think everyone gets their way so easily?”

He ignored my question completely. “Do I dazzle you?”

I froze for a moment before asking, “What do you think?”

“Now that’s the real question…” He mumbled. He looked frustrated.

Thankfully, before I could even form a response, our server arrived, her eyes gleaming. Once again, another woman dazzled by just the mere presence of Edward Cullen.

“Hi. My name’s Amber and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” She only looked at Edward and I noticed that his eyes, again, were on me.

“A Coke.” I said rather bland to the server.

“Two Cokes,” he said.

“I’ll be right back with that.” She shot him another smile, one that was completely unnecessary as his eyes still remained on me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Fine?” I’d completely forgotten about the reason why he was here with me in the first place. I hated that. The way that every thought bolted out of my mind when it came to him, it was quite frustrating.

“You’re not a little shaken up? Dizzy, sick, cold…?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I’ve always been pretty good at repressing unpleasant things.” And he was far from that.

He nodded. “Well, I’ll feel better once you have something in your system.”

Just after that, the server came back with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. To make him feel better, I grabbed one to nibble on.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked Edward, her back facing me.

“Y/N?” he asked. She looked back at me uninterested. I tried my hardest to swallow my tongue.

I glanced at the menu, picking the first thing that my eyes fell to. “I’ll have the Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“And you?” She turned back to him with a smile.

“Nothing for me.” I knew it.

The server gave him a coy smile. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

He pushed my drink towards me, nodding at it for me to drink. The waiter left disappointed.

Once the glass was in front of me, I sipped on it, forgetting how dehydrated I actually was. In under a minute, the soda was gone and embarrassingly enough, I was still thirsty.

I saw him push the other coke towards me. I gave him a smile, deciding to take small sips from it.

“Cold?” He asked. 

I felt a shiver down my spine and this time it wasn’t from Edward, but from the Coke that I’d chugged and the one that I was currently sipping on. 

Before I could even nod, he shrugged off his gray coat, one that looked a little too nice for a teenage boy. Underneath, he wore a casual dark blue button down with the two buttons loose to reveal a dark gray undershirt.

Once he handed me his coat, I was broken from my trance. I slid my arm into his coat, oddly, it was cold, almost as if I’d left it in my car that was drowning in snow from the night before. But in just seconds, the coat had warmed to my touch. Once it was on, I pushed back the sleeves as they were far too long on me…

“You sure you're alright? Normally a person would’ve gone into shock.” He pushed the breadsticks in front of me and I gladly served myself another.

Why was that? I couldn’t really make out a sane answer as to why my reaction didn’t amount to one of a normal person. There was truly only one answer. Him.

“I feel safe with you,” I confessed. 

His head went down, his eyes to the floor with a furrowed brow.

“I’m not… good for you.” He shook his head, his eyes still facing the ground.

“Your eyes are black again.” I saw his expression change, he looked back up at me, his eyebrows furrowed yet again, but this time in a state of confusion rather than disappointment. “I noticed your moods change according to your eye color, it’s quite interesting actually. One of my new theories.”

“So there’s more theories?” He had a faint smile and I could sense that he was a bit intrigued.

“Well I’m not gonna force it out of you. Just makes me feel a bit more sane.” He nodded at my response, his smile peeking a bit more in the corners of his mouth. 

“And what are these new theories?”

When the waitress came over, we both realized how close we were sitting and immediately straightened out. She set the dish in front of me and then turned to Edward.

“Did you change your mind? Isn’t there anything I can get you?” she asked him. 

“No, thank you.” Then gestured towards me. 

I looked around at the table, realizing I’d already finished the second coke. “Maybe just some water.” I gave her a tight smile.

She nodded, only smiling at Edward, then took the empty glasses off the table and walked off.

“So, those theories?” He moved closer to me.

“I’ll tell you later in the car. Only if I can ask you a few questions.”

“Done,” he said immediately, I was a bit surprised.

“Why are you here?” I started.

“To have dinner with you,” he said as if it were obvious.

“No, I mean Port Angeles. It’s an hour drive – you knew I was here.”

“Next.”

“C’mon, I gotta have at least some answers if you won’t tell me the big one.”

“Next,” he repeated.

I tried hard to not look as frustrated as I actually was. I shouldn’t have. I should feel grateful and not poke my head in where it didn’t belong. But I couldn’t help the pull I felt towards him, the need to know him. Instead, I pulled my focus towards the steaming food in front of me, twisting the noodles on my fork and sticking them in my mouth. It was actually delicious.

The waitress came back with two waters without another word.

“Okay.” I took a sip of my water before speaking up again. “So… let’s say, hypothetically, someone could know what people are thinking. Read minds, you know?” I wasn’t even sure if this question was regarding me or him, but I was intrigued either way.

“Hypothetically?” He asked, amused.

“Mhm.” I nodded. “So, how does it work? How is it that someone could find another person at the right time and just know that they’re in trouble?”

“Well, hypothetically, it shouldn’t take that someone any mind reading at all to know just how much trouble you get into in a town with absolutely no trouble.” He chuckled.

I only just looked at him, waiting for him to tell me the truth or not. Just from my look, he seemed frustrated, as if he was battling a war in his mind of whether or not he should tell me the truth.

“You can trust me, you know?” Without a second thought I reached my hands towards his, but he pulled them away. My face was tinted red. I was glad his eyes were still to the floor.

“I was wrong about you.” He admitted. “You're much more observant than I gave you credit for.”

“Thought you were always right.”

“I used to be.” He finally looked at me. “But, you proved me wrong.”

He spoke up again before I could respond. “I was wrong about something else, too.”

“You’re not a magnet for accidents. No… that’s not a broad enough classification. You are a magnet for trouble. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will inevitably find you.”

“And you think that’s you?” I guessed. 

Just from his expression, I knew I was right. His face turned cold, in another effort to shut me out completely. 

“Unequivocally,” he said.

My hands stretched across the table again as they had a mind of its own. Even as he pulled away, my hands persisted, shadowing over the back of his hand, feeling his skin with my fingertips. It was cold, like stone. Familiar. Like in my dream. Once the cold started to dissipate from my fingertips, I slowly inched my hand back…

I wasn’t the only one who noticed it. Edward looked down at where my fingertips once laid, a bewildered look on his face. To break his focus, I cleared my throat, muttering, “Thank you,” I started. He looked up at me, trying hard to not glance back down at his hand. I continued “For saving me… again…”

“Let’s hope there isn’t a third.” He said, his usual condescending self resurfacing. He placed both of his hands under the table, pulling himself back into our conversation.

“I followed you to Port Angeles,” he admitted. “I feel protective over you.” His expression seemed like he didn’t know why himself, but he continued on, “I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes.”

It should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t. Instead, I felt content over the fact that this connection wasn’t imaginary. He felt it to the point where he felt the need to protect me. Nothing about this was normal, but I seemed to not be fazed by it at all. So, why should I fight it? The only thing I was determined to fight was the smile that threatened to curve on my lips. 

“Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the van, and that you've been interfering with fate?" I speculated, distracting myself.

“That wasn't the first time," he murmured. “Your number was up the first time I met you." 

My breath hitched. But somehow, the memory didn’t bother me anymore, not when I felt the safety I felt with him right now. Not when he’d gone beyond faith and saved me twice.

"You remember?" he asked.

"Yes." I was as calm as ever. 

“And yet here you sit." There was a trace of disbelief in his voice; he raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, here I sit… because of you." I paused. “Because somehow you always manage to find me?”

He studied me, his expression guarded. His eyes flashed down to my plate, then returned to mine.

“You eat, I'll talk," he bargained. 

I looked down at my now, lukewarm food, realizing how long it’s been since I’d taken a bite. I filled up my fork and ate in return for his explanation.

“It's harder than it should be — keeping track of you. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before…" He glanced at me with anxiety, and I noticed I had tensed up. I forced myself to swallow, then piled up my fork again for another bite.

“I kept loose tabs on Jessica, knowing only you could find trouble in Port Angeles. At first I didn’t notice when you roamed off on your own – her thoughts were quite scrambled. Then, when I realized you’d left them, I went looking for you at the bookstore I saw in her head. I could tell you hadn’t gone in yet – you’d gone south. I searched through the thoughts of people on the street just to see if anyone saw you. I was strangely anxious…”  He trailed off, lost in thought, his gaze distant.

“I drove in circles, still… listening. The sun was setting, and I was considering following you on foot. But then—" He paused, teeth clenched in sudden fury, making an effort to regain composure.

“Then what?" I whispered. He continued to stare towards the floor. 

“I heard what they were thinking," he growled, his upper lip curling slightly back over his teeth. So could I, even if it was just for a moment. “I saw your face in their minds." He was struggling to compose his anger as his entire face twitched up.

His hands were now in his face to contain his fury. “It was very… hard — you can't imagine how hard it was for me to simply take you away, and leave them… alive." I was holding in a gasp. But, still… somehow… I wasn’t afraid of him. 

“I could have let you go with Jessica and Angela, but I was afraid if you left me alone, I would go looking for them," he admitted in a whisper. I sat quietly, dazed, my thoughts incoherent. My hands were folded in my lap, and I was leaning weakly against the back of the seat. He still had his face in his hand, and he was as still as if he'd been carved from the stone his skin resembled. 

Finally he looked up, his eyes seeking mine, full of his own questions. 

“Are you ready to go home?" he asked. The waitress had come over almost immediately after Edward muttered the words.

I nodded, satisfied that I’d be the one spending an hour long drive with him, one that would further my answers to my long-awaited questions.

“How are we doing?" she asked Edward. 

“We're ready for the check, thank you." He was a lot more reserved than earlier. His charming smirk had been replaced with a brooding expression, still reflecting the strain of our conversation. The waitress seemed to notice the change and looked a bit disoriented from it.

“S-sure," she stuttered. “Here you go." Before she even pulled out the check, a bill was already in his hand. He slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to her. 

“No change." He gave her a tight smile, then stood up. Meanwhile, I scrambled awkwardly up to my feet. 

She smiled invitingly at him again. “You have a nice evening." He didn't look away from me as he thanked her. I didn’t even bother to smile. Walking out, he was close beside me, but still careful not to touch me.

He opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. I should’ve been used to this. But as I watched him circle around the car, so effortless and graceful, I couldn’t help but think of how I was so utterly astonished by him.

Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. I was grateful, because even in the warmth of his coat, the temporary chill of the car had left me in shivers and a cold breath. I didn’t even notice Edward weaving through traffic, as I usually did, but we were now on the freeway. That’s when he finally slowed down to a normal pace, for now…

“Now, about those theories…" he said, his usual smirk and smugness creeping its way back.

“I still have more questions,” I revealed. “Just one.”

He only nodded, staring me down, not even paying attention to the road.

“What am I thinking right now?”

He sighed. “Now that. That’s the most frustrating thing of all.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I waited for an answer.

“I can read every mind… apart from yours.”

My breath hitched. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“I hear voices in my mind and you think there’s something wrong with you?” So, I’m a double freak. I should’ve told him that I heard them too, even if it was only for a few moments… But if he could have secrets, so could I.

“How does it work?”

“Mostly, it’s like being in a huge hall filled with everyone speaking at once. It's just a hum — a buzzing of voices in the background. It’s not until I focus on one voice and that’s when their thoughts are clear.” He paused for a moment. “Most of the time I tune it all out — it can be very distracting. And then it's easier to seem normal.” It seemed agonizing.

“Why do you think you can’t hear me?”  I asked 

curiously.

“The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency and I'm only getting FM." He grinned at 

me, suddenly amused.

“So you’re telling me that my mind doesn’t work right?” I chuckled, but really, his words unsettled me. It hit a nerve, tapping into a fear I’d always dreaded might be true. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just a theory… which brings us back to yours.”

I froze. Suddenly, saying it out loud made me feel foolish. Despite all my research and seemingly reliable conversations – I still felt like I was losing my mind.

He noticed my silence. “I won’t laugh,” he said, scrunching his grin into a line. 

I took a deep breath before I started. “So, I ran into an old friend – Jacob Black, an old family friend of mine… His dad is one of the Quileute elders.” I noticed his expression change, his jaw clenching.

“At La Push, he told me a few old legends – I think he was trying to scare me. But, he told me one…” I was distracted by the Forks welcome sign as Edward slowed down – I should’ve known that the hour-long car ride would be cut short from Edward’s driving habits. 

Right as I was about to continue onto my theory, my attention shifted to the flashing police lights and sirens as we were nearing the police station. Then, my dad’s cruiser parked right in front.

“My dad’s still here… Can you pull in?” I asked.

“That’s my father’s car in the end. What’s he doing here?”

Once he pulled in, we both exited the car, meeting Carisle as he walked down the steps of the police station.

“Carlisle. What happened?”

“Waylon Forge was found in a boat out near his place. I just examined the body.” 

Flashes of images consumed me. The boat. Red. So much red. In a blur, the flash of crimson red was surrounded by pale bodies devouring the deceased Waylon Forge.

“Y/N?” A voice interrupted the images, a shake and then a cold hand on my face is what I felt before I opened my eyes.

I squinted from the flashes of the red and blue police lights. With each blink, my vision cleared and in front of me was Edward – wearing an expression I’d never quite seen from him before: fear. 

And I felt it too, more than ever.

His once cold hand warmed on my face, almost tingling. But this time, he didn’t move it. 

“Y/N?” Carlisle interrupted over Edward’s shoulder. “Are you feeling faint?”

“No.” I cleared my throat. Edward had finally let go, but that warmth of his touch lingered severely. “I’m fine, thank you. Just… just shock… H-he died?” I stuttered. “How?”

I knew exactly how. The images from just seconds ago flickered. My heart pounded and my breath picked up from just the memory of it. The blood. Waymond’s blood. His lifeless body being torn apart by those three figures… Vampires.

Carlisle sighed. “Animal attack.”

next chapter

a/n: i'm so sorry i haven't updated in forever ..........

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